Thanks Balma

11/02/2014

Un murales di Balma di Roure

I went to see snowing in Roure: rain!
Then I reached Balma of Roure. Snow only on the ground, then rain again. When it is so you surrender , and since you’re there, you take a stroll …
To find a narrow road that goes up between the houses, beautiful and gathered with only a few sound left to slip. An alpine accentor pushed downstream by the snow pauses on a balcony: looking for some crumbs. A man shovels snow, a lady peers the sky. Will it snow?
And then suddenly here is the fog to muffle and make everything surreal and shortly after the snow.
Abundant.
Meanwhile, on the walls appear painting to narrate the life of that place, of women and children, about woe work in the mines to scrape talc. All unreal, emerging from the time in the cloud of snow that falls and wraps.
In an inch of space and a blink. So many pictures and so many sweet thoughts. The murals seem alive.
Then suddenly nothing more snow. The murals are silent and even the alpine accentor has gone.
Thanks Balma. It has been a sweet enchantment.